Friday, May 6, 2022

Mother's Day

The Blood

On the pillow

The Ink

On the wall 

Tuesday, April 26, 2022

Marching Toward Normality

Last Friday, the Barga Jazz Club opened with live music for only one of the few times it has been open in the last two years. We were treated to a resounding set of American spirituals and gospel music rendered joyful by Dimitri Grechi Espinoza on sax, and jubilant by PeeWee Durante on piano. 


The set included the traditional spiritual, Wade in the Water; Sister Rossetta Tharpe’s  gospel to jazz influenced, When They Ring that Golden Bell; and on through Billie Holiday’s God Bless the Child; Louis Armstrong and others. The spiritual aspect was in evidence with the presence of Dimitri who specializes in using space and reverberation in mesmerizing original compositions, both live, in sacred spaces in Livorno, with the title of Il Significato Spirituale del Suono, and on two discs “Angels Blows” and “The Spiritual Way” 


March: in like a lion, out like a lamb. As we move tentatively into the first seemingly normal Easter holiday and on to what hopefully promises to be a pleasant summer season, after all of the sacrifices we have made over the last two years, we can look forward to the comfort and joy of more great live music, celebrations and good company. 


Marching In


https://youtu.be/divcuPsGW7w 

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Lost in Translation

In Italy for over 20 years I am often called on to translate, help with admin tasks and the like.

In some documents I do call on Google Translate, as it has improved noticeably from its early years, with reasonably accurate results, which I always review and tweak.  


Thankfully, especially right now, international diplomacy is rarely the subject matter, but it could have created, or resolved, a topical exchange when translating a numbered list of to-do items on a furniture and fixtures list:


18. Cabinet resolution


was translated as this:


18. Delibera di Giunta: Resolution of the Junta 

Monday, March 7, 2022

A Crimp in my Equanimity

In two days, on March 9th, two years ago we began a journey of nightmarish, surreal proportions, which most of us had never experienced and which has left us unmoored and adrift, and from which we, since you’re reading this, have come through alive, though not untouched or unmoved, only to be launched into that which can only be described at best as a humanitarian crisis of catastrophic proportions led by The Just One Bad Actor it takes, and defended by another Actor with some pretty good moves and courageous leadership dancing a pas de deux of death, destruction and desperation. 


This will take all of our reserves of resilience, patience, calm, tolerance, equanimity, strength of character, reason, rationality, compassion and empathy, most of which we have experienced here in this small Tuscan hill town for the last two years and can be an inspiration and example to all. 


Kerry Bell

Barga, Italy


Sunday, February 13, 2022

The Tiglio Road

 

The Tiglio Road


The winding road that leads to and from the small village of Tiglio, has been plied for at least 1000 years, by farmers, travelers, and pilgrims. According to church archives dating to 983 and 984, Tiglio was registered as part of the property of the Pieve of Loppia, which also included, Renaio and Pegnana. 


Its ancient church of S. Giusto, at the top of the mountain overlooking Barga and the Serchio River Valley, was originally a castle fortress. For more that 25 years in the early to mid 14th century, it was fought over in a tug of war between Barga and the Lucca families of Castruccio Castracani and Antelminelli, and finally in 1354, it was restored to Barga through the intervention of Florence, which marks the village’s strategic importance in the history of Barga.  A pair of elegant marble statues of The Annunciation behind the altar attest to its importance as a pilgrimage destination in the 14th Century.  


Today the Tiglio Road is well paved and rapidly driven by the farmers and families who live in the villages of Renaio, Pegnana, and Tiglio, and it is a through back road to Piastroso and Coreglia. It’s a lovely walking route exposing heartrendingly beautiful views over Barga and the western coastal range of the Apuan Alps. 


Tiglio may be named for the Linden tree. The road leading in and out of Barga, as all roads, from Largo Roma, is flanked with their stateliness. In June the miniature chandelier shaped blossoms perfume the air for miles with their intoxicating scent, and its lush broad heart-shaped leaves provide cool shade in the hottest of the summer months.






Tuesday, November 30, 2021

Thanksgiving 2021

I had had no plans but woke up early thinking, actually, I could throw together a reasonable facsimile of a turkey dinner. First stop my moment of cappuccino and brioche zen and then off to the store where I found almost all ingredients of what my one guest called tacchino decomposto, deconstructed turkey. A thigh, a breast, and apple/onion/sage/sausage garnish in lieu of stuffing, baby green beans and mashed potatoes. I even found cranberry sauce at the shop that has British imports. 


When I got home the jar of cranberry sauce went crashing to the floor and shattered. It could have been worse, I thought afterwards. That was not my first thought however, which was F**k! as I slammed the package of green beans on the floor too in a fit of pique and infantile rage. It really could have been worse, it could have been the Prosecco. 


I managed to compose myself, clean it up and get to work, all the while wondering when a major delivery to a friend’s house I needed to supervise, scheduled this morning, was going to happen, hoping it wouldn’t be in the middle of some cooking operation, or worse in the middle of sitting down to eat. Alas, I pulled it all off and the delivery never materialized so all was well. We had a lovely meal and I chased the mid-pandemic-far-from-home-Thanksgiving-day blues away on this cold foggy rainy day in late November.


I am thankful to all and for all.


Friday, September 24, 2021

A Walk

 

She was walking 

Along a narrow winding road 

In the mountains

 

A bird called 

And she looked up 

A falcon? A buzzard?  A hawk?


The car came careening 

Around the curve 

She landed on the windshield 


Spread eagle